Worse Than His Bite
by ReferenceGoddess
Summary: Scotty finds something he lost, which turns out to be a bit of good luck for both him and McCoy.
1. Chapter 1 Here, boy

Worse Than His Bite

Doctor McCoy and Scotty are kidnapped while on a diplomatic mission. Kirk will use all of the ship's resources, no matter how unorthodox, to get them back.

Standard Disclaimers: _Star Trek _is the property of Paramount Pictures, Bad Robot, a whole bunch of other people who aren't me, and the moral property of Gene Roddenberry, the Great Bird himself. No money exchanged hands, more's the pity.

* * *

**Scotty**: I tested it out on Admiral Archer's prized beagle.

**Kirk**: Wait, I know that dog. What happened to it?

**Scotty**: I'll tell you when it reappears... Ahem. I don't know, I do feel guilty about that

**_Star Trek_ **(2009)

----------

Chaper 1 - Here Boy

"So, Mister Scott, what do you have for us today?" said Kirk as he stepped into the cargo transporter room. Doctor McCoy followed a few steps behind.

"I think I have finally solved my problem. Using the formula's that Mr. Spock's counterpart gave me, I can finally make something right that went wrong. Scotty grinned manically, and he activated the transporter.

Scotty's hands danced over the transporter controls. A small shape started to form on one of the pads. "Come on, come on," whispered Scotty to himself.

The shape resolved itself. It was a medium sized canine, white and brown and black. It stood there in confusion for a moment. It then opened its mouth and let out with a mournful howl.

"Scotty, is that?" asked Kirk, amazed.

"Aye," said Scotty with satisfaction. "Tis the admiral's dog. I finally got him back. The beagle has landed." The other men winced slightly at the bad joke.

The howling continued. Kirk looked at the dog sternly. "Be quiet." The dog ignored him.

McCoy got down to one knee. "Here boy, here boy," he said softly. The dog stopped howling and looked at the doctor quizzically. McCoy snapped his fingers, and the dog took a few steps forward, its nails clicking on the smooth floor. It stopped and started howling again.

Kirk looked on in amusement. "You are sure that is Admiral Archer's dog, right? You didn't just steal some kid's pet, did you?"

Scotty looked offended. "Of course not!" I'm quite sure that is the right dog."

McCoy looked up at the two men. "Do either of you know the dog's name?"

Kirk thought for a moment. "It was something literary. Porthos? Athos?"

McCoy took a guess. "Here d'Artagnan." The dog stopped howling and looked at him again. "That's a good boy. Come on, heel."

The dog trotted up to him and sniffed the doctor's proffered hand. It's tail started to wag, and then it launched itself at McCoy, licking his face with enthusiasm. "Charming, dog slobber," said McCoy, but his complaint lacked any real heat. He turned the dog's collar around so he could read the tag.

Well, it says, 'My name is d'Artagnan. If found, please contact Jonathan Archer'. There's a com code on the back."

Scotty looked smug. "I told ye so."

Kirk turned to leave the room. "I'll have Uhura notify Admiral Archer that we've found his dog. Until we can arrange to ship him back to Earth, someone will have to take care of him. See to it, gentlemen."

Scotty and McCoy looked at each other. McCoy tried to hand the dog off to Scotty. The dog got one sniff of Scotty and growled.

"It seems the little fellow holds a grudge, Mister Scott."

"Aye, so it seems. Well, I guess since he's taken a fancy to you, doctor," said the engineer as he moved towards the door.

Too late, McCoy realized his mistake. "You get back here! I run a sick bay, not a boarding kennel, damn it!" he yelled at retreating man's back. Scott left the room, leaving the doctor holding the wiggling dog. McCoy sighed in resignation. He put the dog back on the floor.

"Well, come'on, d"Artagnan. Let's see If I can get the food replicators to cough up some hush puppies." D'Artagnan woofed in agreement.


	2. Chapter 2 Man's Best Friend

Chapter 2 - A Man's Best Friend

Standard disclaimers: If you recognize the character or the setting, it isn't mine. Only the dialog and situation is mine.

_Que me amat, amet et canem meum._

attrib. to St. Bernard of Clairvaux

----------------------------------------------

"We are almost through here. Just two more things. First, there is the Geshalions request for a mining engineer to be added to the roster of technicians doing the preliminary survey. Status, Mr. Scott?" asked Spock.

Scotty looked up from his data pad and addressed the others in the briefing room.

"Well, I have two lads who have practical mining experience. I suggest Yeoman Gaetano, as he has two years experience in mining operations on Gliese 581 C."

"I concur," said Spock, and he made a note on his own data pad. "Captain?" he nodded to Jim Kirk.

"Nothing that we don't already know. According to the original survey party the Geshalions seem to very interested in exploring what Federation membership could do for their planet. They are not sticklers for protocol, which is a relief. He turned to face Doctor McCoy. "I was reading an old report from the days of the first Enterprise. Captain Archer's dog nearly caused a planetary incident."

"I wasn't planning on bringing d"Artagnon along, if that's what you're wondering. I would hate to tell the Admiral that we found his dog, and then he died because we exposed him to some alien form of distemper."

"True, true," agreed Kirk. "The only item left is the diplomatic reception. All senior officers will attend, in dress uniform. And, of course, everyone will be diplomatic." Kirk seemed to stare at McCoy on this last sentence.

"Why are you looking at me, Jim?" said the doctor in mock-hurt tones. "I will be the perfect Southern gentleman. I won't say anything there that I wouldn't say in front of my great-grandmother."

"I've met your great-grandmother, Bones. I don't find that at all comforting." Jim had met Dr. Jacqueline Del Bosque-McCoy once. She was a formidable woman who had ruled the Greater Savannah Medical Complex with an iron will and a scalpel sharp tongue for decades.

"Thank you, gentlemen, ladies. The meeting is dismissed." Kirk made a vague motion towards the door.

"Just in time for lunch," said McCoy. He left the briefing room with what could only be called a jaunty step.

---------------------

"Heel, boy, heel," a voice floated over the noise of the mess hall. Some heads swung around to watch the McCoy and d'Artagnon thread their way through the lunch crowd.

"Aren't they cute together?" asked Uhura with a smile. "It reminds me The Captain's Best Friend."

"The Captain's Best Friend", asked Spock.

"A popular children's book on Earth, sir. It's the story of the first starship Enterprise, told from Porthos' point of view. It won an award," said Sulu.

"Yes, the Caldecott Medal in 2230, I think," said Uhura.

"I do not understand this fascination Humans have for pets. That dog serves no useful function," stated Spock.

"With all due respect, sir, Dart there has already done some useful work," said Nurse Chapel. "Dogs have been used for therapy on Earth since the late twentieth century. Just petting a dog can lower a Human's blood pressure and heart rate, and lower tension levels. Why, the doctor hasn't snapped at anyone in three days."

Lieutenant Sulu whistled. "That's pretty impressive. Some religions may count that as a miracle." The other Humans at the table laughed. Doctor McCoy made his way to the table.

"Room for one more?" he asked cheerfully as he plopped his tray down on the table. The dog curled up at his feet. McCoy tossed a small bit of chicken from his tray down to the waiting dog.

"That is wery vell trained dog," said Chekov. "The admiral must use Russian methods." The others at the table just rolled their eyes.

"How are you working dog sitting into your schedule, doctor?" asked Uhura.

"Well, he stays in my office during my shift. We go out for some little walks when my schedule allows." McCoy's face fell. "It's not fair to a dog, living in space like this. Dogs need fresh air and rabbits to chase..."

"And trees," murmured Sulu. The other Humans cracked up, and even McCoy smiled.

"I trust," said Spock dryly, "that caring for the Admiral's dog has not lead to a decrease in the efficiency of your department." The rest of the table (and indeed, that end of the mess hall) fell quiet as they waited for the storm to break.

McCoy just reached down and scratched the dog's ears. "Why, bless you, Spock, that's real kind of you to worry about my department, but we're doing just fine. We already have all the equipment and supplies that we'll need for Geshalion mission packed and ready to go. Isn't that right, Chapel?" He took another bite of his sandwich.

Christine nodded. "Yes, doctor. Triple-checked, and ready for transport. And everyone in our department has watched the Geshalion protocol briefing at least twice."

McCoy leaned back in his chair and smiled benignly at Spock. "See, no problems." He took a sip of coffee, and then reached down once more to pet d'Artagnon. A voice sounded over the ship's intercom.

"Doctor McCoy, you are needed in sickbay immediately."

McCoy sighed. "Come on, Dart. No rest for the wicked." He grabbed his tray and headed towards the door quickly, stopping only to deposit his half-eaten lunch in the collection area. The dog scrambled to its feet and trotted after McCoy. Chapel nodded to the group and left the mess hall as well.

Uhura shook her head. "I think he is going to take it hard when we send d'Artagnon back to Earth."

"Why?" asked Spock. The others at the table looked at him in amazement.

"Humans and dogs can form very strong bonds. There are stories on Earth of dogs who waited for their deceased masters for years, like Blackfriers Bobby in Britian, or Hachiko in Japan," said Sulu. "And some people compare losing a pet to losing a family member. It's a very old partnership, people and dogs." He took a last bite of his lunch. "Oh well, back to work." The others at the table rose and headed back to their duty stations.

Spock contemplated the conversation as he rode the lift back to the bridge. He would, he decided, do some more research on Human-canine interactions. It should prove fascinating.

**-------------------**

Gaetano - in the prime universe, he was one of the unlucky crew members in the Galileo Seven episode. I changed his rank; let's hope that changes his luck.

Gliese 581 C does exist - the possibility of a mining station there is, of course, a matter for future research. 8-)

The Caldecott Medal is real - it is awarded by the American Library Association to the best children's picture book of the year. I like to think it will exist, even if it is the Terran Library Association awarding it, in the future.

-------


	3. Chapter 3 Going for a Walk

usual disclaimers - characters do not belong to me - only the plot line I have dropped them in. No Federation credits/gold-pressed Latinum/U.S. dollars changed hands. Rats

-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-

3 - Going for a Walk

Montgomery Scott thought the Geshalion mission was one of the most interesting jobs he had been assigned to (other than watching over the Enterprise herself, of course). He and his team had spent the morning with their Geshalion counterparts touring the city's main power complex. They had already several ideas on how to increase efficiency and reduce environmental impact. Restalu vo Crisallo,the power plant's head engineer, was a fine woman to Scott's way of thinking. She understood that engineering wasn't just about making things work. It was about finding the most elegant solution possible, it was about the pure beauty of making an engine sing. It was a pity that Geshalions could not tolerate Terran alcohol. Restalu was just the sort of being that Scott would present a bottle of Earth's finest to.

It was now lunchtime. Most of Scott's team had already left for a local eatery with their alien colleagues. Yeoman Gaetano had stayed behind to work on his suddenly recalcitrant tricorder.

Restalu nodded in understanding. "The first Federation group, the one that contacted us after our initial warp-drive experiments, had trouble with their sensors. The land this power plant is on, and the mountains south of the city are shot through with mineral deposits that affect some of your equipment."

"Hmm, do you have any ideas on how to work around the problem?" asked Scott.

"Actually, I do. Would you like to review my notes now, or after lunch?" she said as her hand touched a control on her computer screen. They gathered around her work space, heads nearly touching, as she started to explain her theories and possible solutions.

There was a knock at the door. Restalu gave a distracted, "Enter." To their surprise, it was not a power plant technician or an Enterprise yeoman at the door. Instead, several Geshalions, faces partially swathed in cloth quickly entered the room. They pointed weapons at the startled engineers.

"Montgomery Scott, Restalu vo Crisallo, you will come with us."

Scott could see Gaetano tense.

"Stand down, Gaetano," ordered Scott.

"But sir," protested Gaetano.

"No heroics, laddie. That's an order," said Scott.

"A wise choice, Human," said the tallest of their assailants. "Take all equipment from them, and lock that one," he pointed his weapon at Gaetano," in the storage closet." The armed men shoved Gaetano into the closet and hustled Scott and Restalu out of the building and into a waiting ground vehicle.

-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-

The ground vehicle that Uhura and Tarlah, her Andorian second, were in came to a lurching halt. Azalo Quitraru, their local guide and driver, turned to them. His ear tufts flicked a few times.

"I apologize," he said. There seems to be a problem with the vehicle. I will have to call in and have another brought out to us."

"These things happen," said Uhura. She noticed a small restaurant a few buildings down the road. "Maybe we could wait there. I rather enjoyed the hilale at the reception - do you think they serve it there?"

"Yes, it is a very popular drink here. It would be a good place to wait for the new vehicle. Again, I apologize for the inconvenience." He turned to the comm link on the dashboard of the vehicle, gave their location, and then led them to the cafe.

-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-

Leonard McCoy was relieved to be doing real work.

The diplomatic reception at Geshala's capitol had been as boring and tedious as any similar affair on Earth. Since this was a diplomatic function, no one was allowed to speak about anything that actually mattered. He did find that some Geshalions played a game remarkably akin to Terran golf. And, like humans, its players wanted to talk about it endlessly. It is truly a small universe, when purple beings with feather-like hair and owl-like ears could be just as boring as some of his old co-workers at Atlanta General.

Not that the reception had been without its amusements. Uhura had come dressed in some traditional dress of her people in east Africa, a stunning ensemble of brightly colored fabric that caught the eyes of everyone in the room. (did Spock realize what a lucky bastard he was?). Some of the females on his team also wore ethnic dress. Scott, who came in a kilt, was the only man who eschewed the usual Star Fleet dress uniform.

Today's tour of the facilities of Geshala's leading teaching hospital was much more to his taste. They looked at equipment, compared the common health problems of Geshalions with those of Federation species, and, when the high official accompanying them was called away for an important call, complained about hospital administrators.

They were now in the lab of Learned Gerest vot Amdaro, a scientist who specialized in medical imaging equipment. Doctor McCoy and Doctor Macabuhay, a young woman who had graduated from the University of Manila and had chosen Star Fleet Medical for her residency were discussing common problems, while technician Ladli Patel was merrily taking apart an old Geshalion scanner to get a sense of how it compared to its Federation equivalent.

Suddenly the door to the lab burst open and several Geshalions, heavily armed, ran in. They pointed the weapons at the Humans and the Geshalion scientist who had been showing them his lab.

"Who is in charge?" demanded one of the invaders. The crew members of the Enterprise tried to not look at McCoy. Gerest stepped forward.

"I am Gerest vot Amdaro," he began.

"No, not you. We want Leonard McCoy and Administrator Tarsal Hallion. Where are they?" He nudged Gerest in the ribs with his weapon for emphasis.

McCoy stepped forward. "I'm Leonard McCoy, Chief Medical Officer of the Enterprise. Hallion was called away, and what the hell do you want?"

"You will come with us,"

"What about my people?" asked McCoy.

"Come along peacefully, and they will not be harmed. My word." McCoy raised a skeptical eyebrow at that.

Another Gesholian pushed forward. "We waste time. Show them we are serious." Suddenly a knife flashed in his hand, and Yeoman Patel gasped, looking at the blood that was already staining the front of her blue uniform.

Damn you!" bellowed McCoy, as with two quick strides he reached Patel's side before she could finish her fall to the floor. He lowered her gently the rest of the way to the floor. One hand already had his scanner out and the other reached for a towel hanging off the edge of a lab counter. "You," he snapped at Gerest,"hold this towel to her wound, firmly, don't let go until I tell you otherwise." Gerest gave a little gurgling sound, and his face had turned from its normal purple to an yellowish-violet, but he fell to his knees and did as he was told.

"It hurts sir, I can't believe how much it hurts," gasped Patel.

"Try not to talk, Yeoman. Just stay with us," said McCoy, his voice now soft.

"You said no one would get hurt," hissed one Geshalion to the one with the knife.

"We need to move quickly. If it gets their cooperation, it is worth a little off-worlder blood," said the other. He made a strange twisting motion, the Geshalion version of a Human shrug. "Besides, it is small, nothing..."

"Oh, and have you studied Human anatomy and physiology?" growled McCoy even as he he gave Patel a hypo of tri-ox. "Do you know where the major organs and blood vessels are on Humans?"

"Enough," said the one who had stabbed Patel. He looked at the others in his band. Take any equipment from them, lock them in the closet." Communicators and scanners were taken from the others. A hand snatched away the communicator from McCoy's belt before he could protest.

"Damn it, she needs medical attention now."

"Get up," said the knife-wielding one.

"Go to hell," responded McCoy.

He gave her another hypo, enough painkiller to take the edge off her pain, but not so much that it would depress her respiration. Patel's eyes opened as the analgesic took effect. "Thank you, sir, that feels," her eyes widened in alarm. "Doctor, wat..."

What ever else she was going to say was lost in the explosion of pain in his head.

#######

When I worked at a hospital, the doctors, the nurses, the lab technicians and the maintenance people had their moments of friction. But we were all united in our disdain for the suits in administration.

Part of the reason this update took so long was trying to come up with reasonable alien names - odd enough to be recognizably non-Human, yet pronounceable by Human tongues. Also, in science fiction, it makes me crazy when everyone from a given planet has similar names. Given the breathtaking number of ethnic groups, each with their own naming conventions, on our own world, it seems unreasonable - or at least shows a woeful lack of imagination.


	4. Chapter 4 Move Off Time

**Worse Than His Bite - 4**

Standard disclaimers: Star Trek belongs to Paramount, Roddenberry, and many and sundry corporate entities, none of whom are me. Only the Geshalions are mine (Mine, hear me? Mine!) No money was made.

###########

Move Off Time

Kirk was in the transporter room, ready to beam down for his appointment with the Prime Minister when an emergency light went off on the console. A weak voice said, "Enterprise. Party at hospital attacked. Please.." the voice trailed off. It was replaced by a Geshalion voice, high with panic.

"Please, help. We were attacked. Please, there is so much blood..."

"'Beam them up now!" Lieutenant Kyle's hands were on the controls before Kirk finished his order. Kirk hit the comm panel and ordered security and medical teams to the transporter room

Two figures appeared on the transporter pad. A pale Geshalion knelt over the unconscious yeoman, his hands covered in blood.

"Move away from her slowly," demanded Kirk. Behind him, he could hear the security team rushing into the room.

Amdaro looked up at the armed men in fright. "But, but, he said I was not to let go, no matter what." His feathered ear tufts twitched wildly in agitation.

Kirk gentled his voice. "It's alright, no one here wants to hurt you."

"He was so frightening when he told me to not move."

"Your attacker?"

"No, Healer McCoy," wailed the Geshalion. Kirk resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Patel's eyes opened. "Captain?" she whispered.

Kirk knelt by her side. "Yes, you are on-board the Enterprise. What happened down there, Patel?"

"Geshalions...armed...attacked us at the hospital...hit Doctor M.." her eyes closed again.

"Hit who?" asked Kirk, but she remained silent. The medical team rushed into the room. They ruthlessly shoved both Kirk and Amdaro aside. Kirk hit the comm control again.

"Bridge here," said Spock's calm voice.

The landing party at the hospital was attacked. We have one injured yeoman here heading to sickbay. I'm beaming down with a security team. Notify the Prime Minister that I'll be late. Kirk out." Kirk stepped onto the transporter pad and motioned the security team to join him.

"The landing party at the hospital was attacked. Be ready for anything. Mister Kyle, as soon as you send us down, start transporting the other groups back here."

"Yes, sir!" said Kyle, as his fingers flew over the controls.

------

The team from the Enterprise beamed down into the lab. The first thing Kirk saw was the pool of drying blood marring the otherwise immaculate floor. They swung around as one and raised their phasers as the loud thump coming from one corner of the room, They could hear a muffled voice.

"OK, that's the last hinge. One, two, three."

The door crashed down into the room, The people spilled into the lab, They came to a sudden stop when they realized that several phasers were pointed at them. Kirk quickly glanced over the group - Doctor Macabuhay, Ensign Wang, Nurse Nagenda - but no McCoy.

"Where's McCoy?" he barked out, even as Macabuhay asked, "Patel? Is she safe?" She stopped and stood to attention when she realized just who she was talking to. Kirk motioned to two of the security team. "Check the hallways." They nodded and left the lab.

Doctor Macabuhay stepped forward. "Captain, I'm sorry. The armed Geshalions who attacked us took him." She paused to gather her thoughts. "They were looking for him specifically, by name. They were also looking for the hospital administrator, but he had left the tour group to take care of some problem in another part of the hospital. One of them became impatient and stabbed Patel. They took away our equipment."

"But Patel still had her communicator," said Kirk.

Ensign Wang stepped forward. "Ladli usually wears her communicator on the back of her belt. I guess they missed it." Kirk nodded his thanks. He turned back to Macabuhay.

"Anything else, Doctor?" said Kirk.

"Yes, sir. They ordered Doctor McCoy to come with them. He refused to leave Patel's side."

"He told them to go to hell," said Nurse Najenda, admiration shining in his eyes. He suddenly realized he shouldn't have interrupted, and added, 'Sorry, sir."

"So, when Doctor McCoy refused to leave his patient, one of them clubbed him on the back of the head, hard," continued Macabuhay. "At that point they locked us in the storage room, so I didn't see which way they went. I could hear them arguing - I think some of them were not happy about the violence. One said attacking the doctor would bring bad luck, the other one said he was a superstitious idiot."

"Understood, Doctor," Kirk felt a little better. That's what Patel meant when she said they hit the doctor. For a horrible minute he had thought the attackers had used the Geshalions' primitive but effective projectile weapons. He flipped his communicator open. "What's the status on the other parties, Kyle?"

"I just beamed up Lieutenant Uhura and Ensign Tarlah aboard, as well as most of Engineer Scott's team. I'm still looking for Lieutenant Sulu and Engineer Scott. Mr. Spock and Ensign Chekov are running full scans from the bridge."

"Good. Inform Mr. Spock that Doctor McCoy has been kidnapped. Keep me advised. Kirk out." Kirk put his communicator away, and realized Macaabuhay was trying to get his attention. "Anything else, Doctor?"

"I'm very concerned about Doctor McCoy's medical status. A blow like that can have severe consequences."

"How severe, Doctor?"

She remembered a lesson from McCoy. "If you ever want to be a chief medical officer, you have to tell the captain what he needs to know, and no beating around the bush. There won't be time to sugarcoat anything," he had told her. She looked Kirk straight in the eye. "Possibly fatal, sir."

---------

The next person to beam up was Lieutenant Sulu. His face was bruised and he had a long cut down one arm. He also had a Geshalion in a headlock. He grinned wolfishly at the people in the transporter room.

"So, anyone else have fun planet side?"

The security men came foreward and relieved Sulu of his burden. He stepped down from the platform, grin fading as he noticed the security and medical personnel crowding the room.

"Something went really wrong, didn't it?" he asked Kyle.

"Yeah, Hikaru. The party at the hospital was attacked. Someone used a knife on Patel; she's in Sickbay now. And they took Doctor McCoy. We have no idea why, or where." Kyle hit the control on the comm panel.

"Bridge here," said Spock's calm voice.

"Transporter room, sir. I beamed up Lieutenant Sulu. He brought a Geshalion back with him." Sulu stepped closer to the comm panel.

"Yes, sir. I was waiting in front of the aeronautics agency when three locals drove up and tried to force me into a ground vehicle. I fought them off, and was holding on to one of them when I was transported."

"Very good," said Spock. "Have security put him in the brig. I'll be there shortly to question him."

"Understood, sir," said Sulu.

------------------------

Spock authorized another security team to beam down to the power plant. There they found Scott's and Gaetano's equipment stuffed in a trash receptacle. A few minutes later they found Gaetano himself, who had just managed, with equipment found in the store room, to release himself. He grabbed his communicator eagerly and reported in.

"Uhura, put me through to the captain, please."

"Mister Gaetano. Your report?" came the deep voice of the Vulcan. Gaentano didn't puzzle over the captain's absence, but reported promptly.

"Yes, sir. About fifteen minutes ago, a group of armed locals burst into the power plant. They ordered Chief Scott and Ms. Restalu, the power plant's chief engineer, to come with them. They took our equipment, shoved me in a storage room, and left."

"Anything else to report?"

"Just before they burst in, Chief Restalu was showing us some ideas she had for improving our sensors so that the local mineral deposits would stop interfering, or at lease cause fewer problems. I just checked; her notes are still on her computer screen."

"Do you believe her ideas will help us?"

"I think so, sir. I would like someone else, like Mister Chekov, to take a look at them."

"Very good. Bring back the information and report to the engineering lab immediately."

"Yes, sir!"

------------------------

A grim faced Captain Kirk, accompanied by vot Amdaro (after a quick clean up), Lieutenant Sulu and Doctor Macabuhay, beamed down to Prime Minister Samtri Camasaru's office. Questioning the prisoner had been most unproductive. Other than some mutters about "no alien meddling", he had said nothing. Gaetano stayed behind to work with an engineering team on the sensors.

The Prime Minister and his advisers looked appropriately solemn.

"Captain Kirk, I do not know how to begin," he said. Kirk noticed that the ear tufts were twitching, though not as badly as Amdaro's had been. "I do not understand why any of our people would kidnap your people and ours."

"I brought along Learned vot Amdaro, Doctor Macabuhay and Lieutenant Sulu to give their accounts of what happened. Is this acceptable?" Kirk said is pleasantly enough, though he thought that they were going to hear his crew's testimony whether they wanted to or not. Minister Camasaru waved them to seats in his office.

Sulu's testimony was short and straight forward. One of the advisers, introduced as the local police chief, gave his approval of Sulu's actions.

"We would also like to question this prisoner," he said.

Doctor Macabuhay started telling them of her experiences at the medical center, with excited interruptions from vot Amdaro. When she got to the part about the intruder striking down Doctor McCoy, there was a gasp of shock from some of the listeners. She noticed that one of the Geshalion's head feathers had puffed out in a great display.

"Blasphemy," choked out the Geshalion, her feathers quivering and her her tufts flicking back and forth. Kirk looked expectantly at the Prime Minister for an explanation.

"Minister Sa'Ragattu is a Satalian," said the Prime Minister. At the Humans' blank looks, he continued. A religion practiced by many in the southern part of our continent. They consider it a very grave sin to harm a healer in the course of his or her duties." The Prime Minister pondered this for a moment. "We may be able to use this to our advantage. There are many of our people who may not be enthusiastic about our talks with the Federation who will help us if they learn of this outrage." Kirk grimaced at the thought of his friends' plight being turned into political hay, but he could not fault Camasaru's reasoning.

A functionary slipped into the office and whispered something to the Prime Minister. He turned to the others.

"It was just reported that an armed group burst into a hilule shop in the lower city, demanding the outworlders be handed over to them. When they were convinced that your people had already left, they fled in a ground vehicle, heading south according to the witnesses.

Kirk frowned. "I was told that the vehicle carrying my people had broken down, and so that shop was not on their regular itinerary." He chewed on that for a moment, and then looked the Prime Minister in the eye. "I don't know who kidnapped my officers, but they have someone highly placed working with them."

The feathers on all the ministers went up on that one. Cries of denial, distress. Of the Geshalions, only Camasuru remained quiet. He seemed to stare at the top of his desk for a long while. He finally looked up at Kirk.

"It is not proof positive," he said slowly, "but I agree, Captain Kirk, it looks very suspicious. We will do all in our power to ensure the safe return of your people."

##########

Move off time - a fox hunting term for when the hunt is scheduled to begin.

After numerous rewrites, I decided to post this, even though I'm not completely happy. If I find a way to tweak it, tighten it up, etc., I will do so later. The advantages of Net publishing - so easy to edit. No pulling a piece of paper out of the typewriter (remember those?), crumpling up the paper, starting over...

Mister Kyle is from the original series. The novelization of the movie implies that presence of so many of the original characters means that time is trying to repair itself. I don't know if I buy that, but, what the heck, I'm willing to run with it.

Don't worry - I'll get back to Bones and Scotty in the next chapter. Real life has been taking precedence over writing, as it so often does. 8-(


	5. Chapter 5 Gone to Ground

Standard disclaimers. Only the Geshalions are mine. Everything else belongs to megacorporations, not me. (pouts)

--------------------------------------

Chapter 5 - Gone to Ground

The first thing McCoy saw when he regained consciousness was nothing. It was totally black. He raised his hand to his face; still nothing. He fought down rising panic, shoving it down with the ruthless efficiency learned during his residency. Doctors are not allowed to panic, damn it. Not in the ER, not in OR, not any place. The raging headache and the nausea were not helping matters. He reached behind his head. He winced when he touched the back of his skull, and he could feel the wet stickiness on his fingers. A part of his brain was listing in a calm, clinical voice (reminiscent of one of his second year medical professors) the symptoms of concussion and the consequences of trauma to the occipital lobe of the brain. Possible damage to the visual cortex, causing temporary or permanent blindness said the helpful voice. A soft groan escaped his lips.

"Doctor, are you awake?" said a voice in the darkness. A hand brushed against his shoulder.

"Scotty?" asked McCoy, relieved that he wasn't alone. A nanosecond later, he berated himself for his selfishness.

"Aye. Be very careful. The bloody bastards left us in a cave. This area is reasonably safe, but there are drop-offs and hazards a plenty."

"Are you alright?" asked McCoy. Though what the hell would he do if Scotty said "no" was beyond him.

"Well enough. Chief Restalu from the power plant is here also."

"They obviously didn't leave us a light." (he hoped) "Did they leave us anything?"

"No, not a bloody thing."

"Do you know how long I've been out?"

"Not sure, sorry. It took us about thirty minutes to get to the mouth of the cave by ground vehicle, and then perhaps another thirty to take us down here. I think they wanted to go further, but they got tired of carrying you. They only left a few minutes ago, I think. It's hard to judge time down here."

Damn. Nausea, headache, dizziness, unconscious for over an hour. Damn and double damn.

"I can't even remember what happened. I was in a lab in their main medical complex and, and," McCoy stopped in frustration. Retrograde amnesia supplied that clinical voice (which now sounded like his great-grandmother's) in his head. Another symptom of severe concussion.

"I dinnae know about you, but a group of armed goons grabbed us at the power plant. They took away all of our equipment, and locked Gaetano in a storage closet."

A flash of memory. A cry, bright red blood staining blue fabric. Patel's frightened eyes.

"Patel. Son of a bitch stabbed Patel." McCoy tried to sit up, Scott gently pushed McCoy back.

"Settle down, doctor. There's naught you can do here."

"But..."

"If I were in your place, what would you be telling me?"

McCoy grimaced. "I'd say, settle down and stay still before you make your injuries worse, you damn fool."

"There, then. Physician, heed thyself."

----------------------

Captain Kirk and Doctor Macubuhay sat in an observation room in police headquarters. Right now, Chief Breedon was questioning a very unhappy Administrator Hallion.

"Why did you leave the tour?" he demanded for the umpteenth time that afternoon.

"I will tell you once again, I received a call that there was a major equipment failure in the accidents ward. I had to go at once to evaluate the situation."

Kirk leaned over to Macubuhay. "Do you think he is telling the truth? You've spent some time with him."

"Not very much, but, yes, I think he is telling the truth," said the doctor. "I think he is very impressed with his position. And in some strange way, he is flattered that the dissidents, criminals, whatevers, asked for him."

Kirk settled back in his chair. That was his take on the situation as well. He hadn't really thought of the administrator as a prime suspect anyway. Now, if they could find the driver for Uhura's car, or the dispatcher, that might yield something.

Breedon seemed to be of the same mind. With a warning to stay in the city, the chief let Hallion go. One of Breedon's officers came up to him and they had a brief, whispered conference. He made a motion to the Humans to join him.

"Captain, Healer, we have analyzed the security tapes from the medical complex, and know what ground vehicle took your chief healer. Every available officer is looking for it. And we found Translator Uhura's driver. He will be brought in shortly." He considered the alien guests for a moment. "I would like Healer Macubuhay to be in the room, if it is allowed."

Kirk and Macubuhay exchanged glances. She gave a small nod. "I'm game, if the Chief thinks it will help." She fussed over her hair for a moment, pulling stray locks away from her face. "I'm ready."

Quitraru was led into the room. Breedon didn't waste time with pleasantries.

"Would you like to explain why you stopped in the lower city? It was not anywhere near your planned route."

"I told you, I was having problems with the vehicle. I wanted to take route out of fast traffic. And then it broke down," said Quitraru. His ear tufts were pointed forwards. What did that mean, thought Kirk. Defiance, anger, deception, what?

"Yet," said Breedon firmly, "an inspection of the vehicle reveals nothing. There was no reason for it to break down. In fact, I don't think it broke down at all. I think you stopped there as part of a plan to kidnap our Federation guests."

"Vehicles sometimes develop problems that are hard to diagnose. You know that."

"Yes, very convenient for you. While we are waiting for your accomplice to be brought in..."

"I am innocent. I do not have an accomplice!"

"As you say. I would like you to listen to Healer Macubuhay." Breedon nodded to the doctor. Kirk noticed the gesture - it was Human body language, not Geshalion. The Chief was a darn quick study.

She took a deep breath and related everything she had witnessed that morning to the driver. As with the meeting with the officials, Quitraru became agitated when she described the assault on McCoy. He muttered something that might have been, "not supposed to get hurt."

"What was that?" said Breedon casually.

Quitraru ignored the police chief, all of his attention on the doctor.

"Tell me true, Healer. Is this injury so serious for one of your people?"

"It can be very dangerous. Pressure can build up in our brains, leading to severe disability or even death." Kirk sat up straight - blast, she was wiggling her ears. "It is a very serious matter. I beg of you, if you know anything, please tell us now." She managed a few more ear wiggles. "Any differences between your people and ours can be discussed reasonably. But that will be much more difficult if someone dies. Please, he is a good healer, a good man."

The young Geshalion studied her for a few moments, and then slumped in his chair.

"Yes, you are right. No one was supposed to get hurt." He turned to Breedon. "You are right, the vehicle did not break down. I was supposed to stop it in an area where it would be easy to kidnap the aliens."

Breedon leaned forward. "Do you know where they were going to take the hostages?"

Quitraru's ears flicked a few times in response to the word hostages. "No, not really. They said it would be best if I knew as little as possible. I only know that they were going to head for the mountains. I think, from something I overheard, that they were going to hide in the Glowing Caverns."

"Ah, now we are getting somewhere," said Breedon. He turned to Macubuhay. "I thank you, Healer. You may go now. I will inform your captain as soon as we have something solid to go on."

Macubuhay rose and left the room. She smiled at Kirk wanly.

"That was well done, Doctor. I didn't know you could wiggle your ears."

"It isn't something that goes into one's Starfleet record," she agreed dryly. "It is one of the reasons Doctor McCoy chose me for this mission. Geshalions do not have as many facial expressions as Humans, but they do express a wide range of emotions with their ears. Most of them find our body language very difficult and confusing to read. This odd ability of mine makes me seem a little less alien to them."

He flipped open his communicator. "Let's hope it helped. Two to beam up."

--------------------------

"I hear something," whispered Restalu.

They fell quiet. They could hear footsteps approaching, and then, suddenly a light in the distance. After the total darkness of the cave, they squinted at the approaching light. It was four Geshalions, two carrying bundles, two bearing weapons. They approached closer and put the bundles and a small lantern on the cave floor.

One of the ones carrying a weapon looked down on them. Do not attempt to escape. Once our demands are met, you will be released."

"And what are your demands?" asked Scott.

"For the Federation to leave our world, and leave us be. We do not need or want alien help."

"The Federation is not forcing your people to do anything," protested Scott. "We are here at your government's invitation."

The spokesman for their captors laid his ear tufts back along his skull, a Geshalion sneer. "Yes, I'm sure our officials see great advantage of themselves. Never mind that they will drag us into your conflicts. We know what happened to Vulcan."

"We held a plebiscite," objected Restalu. These issues were all debated before inviting the Federation to discuss, and only discuss, membership."

"You are blinded by the desire for their technology, Engineer. You refuse to see the hidden danger in what they offer." He raised his weapon, surely a sign that the debate was over.

"There is food, water, blankets, and a light. For your own safety, do not leave this area." He looked at Restalu. "She can tell you that the cave systems of the Balralek Mountains have hundreds of your kilometers of passages." He turned to go.

"Wait," cried Scott. "At least release the doctor. "He's injured. You'll still have hostages enough."

"Give up your captain's sa'atlah? No.'" he said flatly, and their captors left, fading into the darkness.

Scott sighed. He puzzled over that parting statement. "What's a sa'atlah? The translator doesn't know that word."

Restalu thought about it a moment. A sa'atlah is someone, not of your blood kin, that you treat as family. You would defend him to the death; she would give you her last cup of water in a desert."

"Best friend, brother-in-arms," translated McCoy. As much as his head ached, he could understand that, at least.

Scott frowned as he reached for the bundle of supplies. He took a blanket off the pile of supplies and handed it to McCoy. "How do they know that?"

"Know what?" McCoy asked muzzily.

"Know that you and the captain are good friends?" That doesn't make sense. It's not the sort of thing that we would tell them. And you spent very little time together at the reception last night."

McCoy tried to focus, sensing that Scott might be on to something here. "I don't know. Chief Restalu, how much Federation news coverage from the Nero incident made it to your world?"

"Very little, Healer McCoy. We only installed a subspace receiver stations three scelrets, that would be about two of your months, ago."

Well, that was a relief. Somehow, the press had managed to worm out of someone (and wouldn't Starfleet Security like to know who) that McCoy had brought Kirk aboard the Enterprise under rather dubious circumstances. They had stuck to the official story, that Kirk was having a bad reaction of some medication and that McCoy hadn't wanted to leave him alone in the chaos of the shuttle deck, but a sizable number of people were not convinced. One particularly eccentric "journalist" (and McCoy used that term in the loosest possible interpretation) came up with the notion that McCoy had a psychic premonition that Kirk's presence would be vital to Earth's survival. McCoy had been thrilled by his assignment as CMO on a ship going on a deep space mission. Maybe by the time he got back to Earth, that bit of utter foolishness would be forgotten.

Scott looked very unhappy. "I know finding out for certain that you're not alone in the universe can be a scary thing, but I have a feeling that someone else may be stirring the pot." Restalu looked at him in confusion.

"What does cooking have to do with it?"

"It's an Earth saying. It means someone is deliberately causing trouble," explained McCoy.

"It's possible someone is trying to prevent your world from joining the Federation. But who?" said Scott. "Klingons, Romulans, some other group we don't even know about?"

"Ever since the destruction of the Klingon fleet by Nero, the Romulans and Klingons have been fighting. I'm not sure they would have time or resources for an undercover job like this." objected McCoy.

"Aye, true enough," sighed Scott. He dug around in the supplies their captors had left. "Anyone want some food?"

McCoy's stomach threatened to revolt at even the thought of eating. "None for me, thanks. Just some water."

Scott looked at him with worry, but passed the water bottle without comment. McCoy took a few sips of the water. Good, it seemed to be staying in place. He rolled up the blanket Scotty had given him and turned it into a crude pillow. He drifted off to sleep, trusting that Jim would think of something.

--------------

_Plus on apprend a connaltre l'homme, plus un apprend a estimer le chien._

Paul Franche

##############

Sorry it took so long to update. Between Real Life (TM) and multiple rewrites, things are going sloooowly here.

I searched various sources for my medical info. Anything I got right, thank WebMD, Medline and other various and sundry medical sites. Anything that's wrong is all my fault. Damn it, I'm a librarian, not a doctor! All part of my one-woman crusade to persuade folks that hits to the head are serious. Get that? Got that? Good.

I'm going with the theory in some (though not all) Star Trek books that the Universal Translator is an implant, not a handheld piece of equipment.

Oh, and since someone will ask, see Luke 4:23.


	6. Chapter 6 The Game's Afoot

Standard disclaimers: Star Trek and its cast of characters belong to whole bunch of people who are not me. (pouts) No money was made - since I have to maintain a laptop and a Net access subscription, you might even say I'm losing money.

We'll see how this goes - a long chapter with frequent changes of scene and POV are involved. Let me know if I need to tighten it up a bit.

-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-

Chapter 6 - The Game's Afoot

Kirk had come dashing up to the bridge the moment Chief Breedon has reported that his people had found the missing car. As expected, it was on a back road leading into the mountains. Spock was leading the sensor sweeps, Chekov and Gaetano making a multitude of minute adjustments to the equipment after every sweep. Every so often, the Geshalions would update the ship on their progress, or lack thereof, in the search.

Spock finally turned to Kirk, his face somber. "Despite the adjustments made by Mister Gaetano and his team, the sensors are still unable to locate Dr. McCoy or Engineer Scott. The area that the kidnappers work out of is honeycombed with caves, larger than the Mammoth Cave system on your planet. They could be well underground, out of range of our sensors even it were not for the interference caused by mineral deposits in the mountains."

Kirk frowned. There had to be a way to find them. He was distracted by a soft beeping coming from the helm console.

"What's that, ensign?" he snapped, and then regretted it. A good captain does not take his frustrations out on his subordinates.

Chekov flushed. "Sorry, keptin. It was just a reminder. Doctor McCoy asked me to feed the admiral's dog while he was planet-side."

"The admiral's dog," repeated Kirk. He mused a moment, and then he grinned. "Of course! The admiral's dog!" The bridge crew looked at him in confusion.

Mr. Spock, have two full security details meet me in Transporter Room one in 10 minutes. Also someone from medical. You have the conn. Ms. Uhura, be ready to patch me through to the chief's office. Mr. Chekov, you're with me." Kirk was already half way to the lift. Chekov scrambled to keep up with him.

Where are we going, keptin?" he asked.

As the doors to the lift closed, the bridge crew could hear Kirk say, "McCoy's quarters."

Uhura looked at Sulu. He shrugged. They both turned to face Spock, who had moved down to the command chair.

"Do you know what that was about, sir?" asked Sulu.

"I believe that the captain plans to have the dog fulfill the function for which it was originally bred. Fascinating."

-i-i-i-i-i-i-

"How is he doing," whispered Restalu. They were looking at McCoy who was sleeping fitfully, wrapped in the thin blankets their captors had given them.

Scotty shook his head. "I fix machines, lass; he's the one who repairs us. But I don't like his color, and he can't keep down anything but a bit of water. I think he's getting worse."

There was a long silence. "What is a civilian?" asked Restalu suddenly.

"Hmm? Oh, anyone who isn't in the military," said a puzzled Scott. "Why do you ask?"

"I overheard you talking," she said. "You didn't think I could hear you. He said, 'If you get a chance to escape, grab Restalu and go. Don't worry about me.' And then you told him you couldn't leave him, and he said he was in no condition to run, and your first responsibility was to protect the civilian."

Scotty nodded. "Aye, he did, and he was right. But it's a moot point, as I don't think we're going to get a chance to escape anytime soon."

They heard footsteps approaching, and voices raised in argument. Two of their captors appeared, looking flustered. One waved his weapon.

"Get up, all of you," he demanded. "We have to move."

Scott and Restalu got up slowly, keeping wary eyes on the weapons.

"Ah now, the doctor needs his rest," started Scott.

"No excuses!" came the voice, getting a little higher. Scott tried to keep calm as the barrel of the weapon pointed right at his head. Verdun, Culloden, Harlaw - primitive weapons could kill you just as surely as a phaser bank.

"Bazo, be careful with that," hissed the other Geshalion.

Scott knelt by McCoy's side, shaking the doctor's shoulder gently. "Doctor, time to wake up."

"Jo-Jo, let daddy sleep a bit longer," muttered McCoy.

The Geshalion who wasn't waving his gun around looked puzzled. "What is a jo-jo?"

"His daughter, Joanna, back on Earth. Adorable little girl," answered Scott. That's the ticket, Scott thought to himself. Make them see us as people, not weird aliens who can be killed out of hand.

Bazo seemed unimpressed. "You are too soft, Dalnan." He swung his gun towards the hostages. "Wake him up now, or else."

Scotty sighed and shook McCoy's shoulder again.

-i-i-i-i-i-

When Kirk, Chekov and d'Artagnan (now on a sturdy leash) arrived in the transporter room, they found it packed. Doctor Macabuhay and Nurse Chapel were there, as were the two requested Security teams. There were also enough personnel to make up at least two more Security details, and Ensign Tarlah. She had an equipment bag slung over one shoulder. She stepped forward when she saw the captain.

"Sir, Lieutenant Uhura suggested that I come along. I am carrying communication boosters, as I understand we will probably be entering a cave system. The boosters will allow us to stay in touch with the ship much more easily."

"A very good idea." He looked at everyone else in the room. "I thought I asked for two details."

"Yes, sir. We just thought it would be a good idea to have some other teams on standby, just in case," answered Lieutenant Harris, his head of Security.

"Good thinking," said Kirk. He smiled inwardly; damn, he loved his crew.

"First security team and Ensign Tarlah will beam down with me first. The second team will accompany the medical team. Take your places, people, and stay sharp."

Lahlee Driggs, head of the capitol area conservation areas, stopped to gape as the aliens "beamed down" into the search and rescue command post. It was one thing to see it on the news feeds, but to see it in person was quite another.

The Humans finished materializing and looked around at the controlled chaos, squinting into the portable lights. She barely noticed Chief Breedon appear at her side. Breedon waved to the Humans to get their attention.

"Yes," he said, answering her unvoiced question. "That is Captain Kirk, the hero of Starfleet."

She flicked one ear at him. "Him and his entire crew," she said.

"He would be the first to admit it," said Breedon. She studied them as they approached her position. Humans, very strange looking with their tiny, rounded ears and flat hair, she thought.

"What is that strange creature with them?" she asked, pointing at the excited d'Artagnan.

"I have no clue, Lahlee, but I'm sure it will prove to be interesting," answered Breedon.

"Ah, Captain," cried Breedon. "I want you to meet Conserver Lahlee Driggs. She is in charge of the parks and natural areas in this area."

"Pleased to meet you, Conserver," said the young captain politely. He waved a hand at his people. "This is Engisn Tarlah, and Yeomen Casey, Cobb, Mancuso and Plum. There will be another team along in a moment."

Driggs pointed at the odd creature, pulling on it's tether and pushing its nose into the dewy grass. "And that is?" she said.

"Ah, this is d'Artagnan. He's a dog, and we're hoping he can help us out where our sensors have failed."

Driggs waved Kirk over to her worktable. She pointed to a section of an old-fashioned paper map that covered the table.

"We started searching the area as soon as Chief Breedon's people found the suspects' car. It's been slow, since our sensors are almost useless in these hills, and there was no moon light to speak of. But the sun will be over the mountain ridge any moment now, and we'll be able to follow some promising trails." She sighed. "This is a very popular area for hikers, so we have to try every recently used trail."

"Well, this is where we hope d'Artagnan can help up. He led the dog to the abandoned vehicle. He took a piece of cloth out of a bag and waved it under the dog's nose. "Come on boy, find 'em, find 'em."

The dog sniffed around the ground for a few moments. He gave out a sharp yip, and started tugging on the leash for all he was worth. Driggs found herself following the captain and his strange animal up one of the many trails they had meant to search that day. She was aware of the string of people, Geshalion and Federation both following in their wake.

As she paced Kirk, she asked, "Why didn't you bring this creature earlier?"

The Human's face turned red. "Well," he said, as he was interrupted by another powerful tug from the dog, "normally, we would not have a dog on the ship, and, I guess, we have just gotten out of the habit of thinking of low-tech solutions."

They stopped at a rock wall. The dog jerked on his leash once more, and led them to a large crack. Driggs flicked her ears a few times, and then consulted one of her maps.

"Hmm, this area is not very well mapped, but there are other openings in the area. If you believe the kidnappers have taken the hostages underground, this could be a possibility."

"Judging by d"Artagnan's enthusiasm, more than a possibility, ma'am," said Kirk. The captain made a motion at his security team. Two of them flicked on their portable lights and squeezed into the cave. After several minutes of waiting (and why wouldn't the aliens' "dog" stop making that dreadful noise?), one of the Humans, came out holding a piece of red cloth.

"Looks like a piece of one of our uniforms, sir," he said. "We found this snagged on a rock about fifteen meters in, sir."

"I think we're on the right track." He turned to the ranger. "How good are the maps for this section of the caves."

"Fair to good, although we didn't know about this particular opening. We had some children get lost here three seasons ago, so this map," here she shifted the papers so another map was on top of the stack, "is accurate, up to about 300 of your meters. That's where we found the young idiots, so after that the mapping is less detailed."

"Understood," said Kirk. He stooped to wave the cloth in front of d'Artagnan again. "Come on, boy, find him. Fetch." The hound tugged on his leash again, and they followed him cautiously into the darkness.

-i-i-i-i-i-

The strange howling noise floated through the cavern's tunnels. Their captors' heads snapped up. More howling echoed through the caves. Dalnan shook his head, as if the sound was causing physical pain.

"Is that?" McCoy trailed off.

Bazo swung his weapon to point right at the doctor's heart. "Is that what? What is that? Tell me, now!" McCoy froze. A weapon didn't need to be advanced to kill you - history lessons about Normandy, Little Bighorn and Sharpsburg popped up in his mind.

Scotty jumped in. "Ach, you've torn it now. That's the Captain's Hound," Scotty's voice was laden with doom. McCoy stared at him, but kept silent. Where was Scotty going with this? It would be so much easier to think If his head didn't hurt so much.

"The Captain's Hound? What is that?" said Dalnan.

"Oh, since the days of the first Enterprise, it has been the custom to keep a hound at hand. He is descended from the first captain's mighty dog, Porthos. Tis the Hound of the Archers." he said with a dramatic flourish.

Suddenly enlightened, McCoy threw himself into the story. "The Hound is only brought out in emergencies. It's a killer..."

"Aye, a killer, It's got a vicious streak a mile wide!" interjected Scotty with grim enthusiasm.

"It's great, black beast, with blazing eyes, and dripping jaws," continued McCoy."Your only hope is to surrender immediately. If you resist in any way, it will tear you to shreds."

"This, this is a bluff," sputtered Bazo. He stopped and winced as another howl, closer and louder, sounded. This time he raised his hands to his ears, the stock of his weapon whacking him in his elbow for his trouble.

Restalu jumped in. "Is the frightening beast you told me about? The one that..?"

"Yes, the very one," Scott broke in before she forced to improvise.

Another howl. closer still. Even Scotty and McCoy grimaced at that. "Your only hope is to drop your weapons and lay down face first on the ground," said Scotty.

"Yes," said McCoy in a clinical voice. "That will keep its fangs away from your throat, at least."

"Muckin' huge fangs," added Scotty helpfully.

-i-i-i-i-i-i-

"Captain! We have someone!" it was Summers, from security. She, along with Walker and Langslow (three blondes known collectively to the crew as "Die Walkure") were dragging a bedraggled looking Geshalion with them.

"We found him hiding out of one of the side passages. And this is so strange..." She held out her hand.

Kirk couldn't help but wince. It looked like a Geshalion ear tuft.

"It came off during the fight. You would think he'd be in pain."

"Yes, you would think so," said Kirk. He turned around and called, "Machubuhay!"

She came dashing up, medical scanner ready. "Yes, Captain?"

"Scan our friend here," he waved his phaser at their prisoner. She complied, and frowned at the results. She adjusted a control on her medscanner and tried again.

"Sir, these results make no sense. Heartbeat, temperature, internal structure," she paused, as if trying to retrieve a stray bit of information. Her eyes widened in shock. "Captain, he's Orion!"

Breedon and Driggs looked at the Humans in confusion.

"What is an Orion, and why is he on my world?" asked Driggs.

Kirk took a breath. "The short version is the Orions are not Federation members, and their government, if you can call it that, is run by a variety of criminal syndicates. Smuggling, drugs, slaving, you name it, an Orion syndicate is probably involved."

Breedon put it together quickly. "They do not want a Federation presence here, for whatever reason. So they send an agent, or agents, to stir up trouble."

Kirk nodded his agreement. "I don't know what plans they have for your world or this sector, but you can be sure your interests would not be a priority."

Breedon waved two of his security people forward. "Restrain him and take him back to the city." His subordinates took the struggling Orion from Kirk's people and led him back to the cave entrance.

"You are nervous, Captain?" asked Breedon, studying the Human.

"Now I am. Orions are famous for not leaving witnesses to testify against them," said Kirk grimly. He waved the piece of cloth in front of d'Artagnan again. "Come on boy, find 'em." And they were off again.

-i-i-i-i-i-

Bazo had thrown down his gun when he heard the search party approaching and then threw himself to the floor face-first, his hands clasped over the back of his neck. A moment later Dalnan followed his example. A few seconds later the security teams from the Enterprise poured into the chamber, d'Artagnan at the lead. With one last "aw-oohh" he ran up to McCoy and danced around him, barking in excitement.

"Damn, am I glad to see you, Jim," exclaimed McCoy, laughing at the dog's antics. Laughing hurt, but for the moment, he didn't care.

"Well, we would have been here sooner, but we had some trouble getting d'Artagnan onto the transporter pad," said Kirk.

"This is one very intelligent hound," said McCoy. He laughed again as the dog bumped into his legs. "OK, that's enough, boy. Down, boy, down."

The security team had secured the prisoners and raised them to their feet. Bazo looked at McCoy and the small dog in shock.

"This, this is the mighty hound? You tricked me!" he screamed.

"Now, now, settle down. This hound here is just a young'un. If we really wanted to kill you, the Captain would have brought out a full-grown hound," drawled McCoy. He winked at Kirk. "Right, sir?"

Jim Kirk knew an opening when he saw it.

"Absolutely correct. Although I am very annoyed with you for injuring my crew members and kidnapping two of my officers, we are not interested in carrying on a vendetta." Bazo and Dalnan looked at Kirk with great suspicion.

Kirk expanded on his theme. "The Federation is not interested in having unwilling members. Despite what you may have been told by that Orion agent, we are not just going to come in and take over. If, after consideration, your people decide you do not want membership, we will leave you in peace."

"What's an Orion?" asked Dalnan.

"I don't know what he called himself, but one of your members was in fact an alien trying to prevent an alliance between our peoples."

Jim went on, but McCoy wasn't listening. He sat down heavily on a rock, the stress of the last day catching up with him. The pain in his head and the dizziness seemed redoubled. He was dimly aware of d'Artagnan's whining, followed by a series of high-pitched yips. A hand grabbed him on the shoulder.

"Bones? Bones?" it was Jim's voice. "What's the matter?"

McCoy tried to focus on Kirk's face, now only inches from his own. "Head hurts," he slurred. "Feel like shit."

"Doctor, now who's being the pig-headed idiot who won't ask for medical attention when he needs it?" Jim's voice was joking, but his eyes were serious. He turned his head to call over his shoulder. "Where's that medical team? Get them down here, now!" The world faded. It could fade, as far as McCoy was concerned. Jim was here - the kid didn't know how to lose.

"For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf,

and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack"

Rudyard Kipling, _The Law of the Jungle_

-i-i-i-i-i-

Bet you all wondered when I was going to get back to d'Artagnan, didn't you?

I didn't see every episode of _Enterprise_ (and boy, did I HATE the way they ended the series, but I digress), but as far as I know, they never employed Porthos in his scent hound capacity. I think there were some episodes that had my husband and I yelling at the screen, "You have a tracking hound! Use him!"

Yes, detachable body parts - a small tribute to _Journey to Babel_.

Yes, I think of beagles as small dogs. Dogs I have owned in the past included a Golden Retriever, a Lab mix, a Siberian Husky and a Norwegian Elkhund. I like big, fluffy dogs.

Scotty and McCoy were quoting from _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_ and The Hound of the Baskervilles. As officers and gentlemen, they are well versed in the classics. 8-)

The surnames of all of my security personnel were taken from other shows/books/etc. that I enjoy. Have fun identifying them.


	7. Chapter 7 Git On Home

Chapter 7

Standard disclaimers: The Star Trek 'verse is not mine - never was, never will be (as the odds of me owning a majority share of Paramount/CBS/insertrandomcorporation are as astronomical as getting a royal Fizzbin, to say the least)

Sorry this took so long, but I was really hung up on it. And then I decided, "Hey, that's what I'm doing wrong. I have the wrong character doing this. It has to be...someone else." And then the pieces fell into place

i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i

Git On Home

Kirk was not pacing. He wanted to pace, he wanted to chew his fingernails, he wanted to do all sorts of things that were uncaptainly. But he stood in the ante room of sick bay, and waited stoically for news.

When he had entered the cavern and saw McCoy standing there, he had been relieved. He had made a mental note to tease Macubahay later for being such a worrywart. McCoy had even managed to laugh at d'Artagnan's antics and make a snarky remark about the transporter. But then when he was busy trying to persuade the Geshalion dissidents to put aside their fear of the Federation, d'Artagnan started barking. It wasn't the happy barking of just a minute ago, it was the sharp bark of an alarmed dog.

McCoy was sitting on a rock, head in his hands. He had to shake McCoy's shoulder to get his attention. The unfocused look he had gotten in return frightened him. He called for help even as his friend passed out in his arms. Machubahay ran up, waved her scanner, and used some words in her native Tagalog that Kirk's translator primly refused to interpret.

What had followed was a struggle to carry the doctor back through the narrow winding passages back to the cave's mouth. Security and the park's personnel joined forces, and teams of fresh people were waiting for the stretcher at wide places along the path, working a relay. (God, I adore my crew thought Kirk). The journey that had taken the inbound Geshalion dissidents over a half hour took the relay teams eighteen minutes, with Macabuhay yelling medical techno-babble into her communicator the entire way. As soon as they exited the cave's mouth a transporter beam whisked the injured man and the stretcher bearers away. And then the waiting began.

Uhura had come down after her shift and was now leaning against the computer station. Every so often, Kirk caught her looking at him with concern in her eyes. Spock joined her, and stood beside her, looking revoltingly relaxed. Scott and Restalu sat next to each other, talking quietly. D'artagnan was sitting next to McCoy's office chair, watching the door to the inner reaches of the sickbay. Several other crew members had dropped by, hanging around until the Captain threw them all out with a promise that he would inform the ship of McCoy's status as soon as he knew himself. Finally the door slid open, and Doctors M'Benga and Machubahay walked in, smiles on their faces.

"He's going to be OK, right?" asked Kirk.

"He should be fine. It's a good thing you found him when you did, Captain," reported M'Benga. There was bleeding in his brain. A few more hours, and it probably would have been too late. At the very least, there would have irreparable brain damage."

"Thank d'Artagnan and his doggy nose," said Kirk, trying to ignore the sudden painful twist in his chest when M'Benga said "too late" and "brain damage". Bones? Brain damage? Someone who could run a sickbay in a pitched battle, operate while the ship was threatening to shake apart around him, find cures even while ill himself, and still find time and wit to insult all and sundry? And "too late"? He really didn't really want to think about it.

The scrabble of claws on the hard floor got everyone's attention. D'Artagnan ran through the open door and with a hop on a chair, got on the biobed with the still sleeping McCoy. He whined once or twice, and then curled up next to the man. McCoy stirred slightly, and one hand moved to rest on the dog's head. d'Artagnan gave a little sigh of contentment and closed his eyes.

M'Benga made a move towards the bed, but Kirk held up his hand. "I think you can leave him there, Doctor."

"Well, it isn't standard hospital procedure, but..."he trailed off as he studied the readings on the monitors, and seemed pleased by what he saw. M'Benga shrugged. "I suppose if we remove him he'll drive us all mad with his howling."

"The dog or the doctor?" muttered Scott.

The laughter was perhaps a bit too loud for the quality of the joke, but Kirk didn't care.

"Uhura, would you send that ship wide message for me?" asked Kirk.

"Right away, sir!" she said brightly.

-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-

McCoy was pulling on the neck of his dress uniform.

"Remind me again why we're doing this," he said.

The Geshalions are very, very embarrassed. They are throwing this party as an apology."

"Hmph."

"Also, your accepting their apology will remove the bad medical mojo."

"Huh?"

"Ah, you missed that part, being stuck in a cave and brain surgery and all. That bit when you told Bazo to go to hell after he stabbed Patel. Around here, that's more than a wish for bad luck. To many of the Geshalions, that falls under something called a healer's curse. They think very highly of the medical arts here."

"Very intelligent folks," said Bones smugly.

"Oh, and Breedon and Driggs wants to talk to us about dogs. They have pets here, and working animals, but nothing quite like a dog. They were both very impressed with d'Artagnan's tracking abilities."

At the sound of his name, d"Artagnan gave a little woof and tugged on the leash wrapped around McCoy's wrist. McCoy raised one eyebrow at Kirk.

"And explain to me again why you get to escort Macabuhay to this soiree, and I get d"Artagnan?"

"Now, Bones, what kind of attitude is that? He did save your life, you know. He's getting an award from the Geshalion Park Service. And the Geshalions decided who escorts whom this time. They usually are not sticklers for protocol, but this is an exception to the rule. After you, Patel was the most severely injured, then Sulu, so that's why they are together, and Scotty with Restalu...well, you get the general idea." They were interrupted by the opening of the great doors to the reception hall. A Geshalion functionary motioned to them.

McCoy sighed and squared his shoulders. "Come on, boy. At least the food here is pretty good."

-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-

Four days out of Geshalia, the Enterprise was ordered to hold its position and wait for a rendezvous with a Vulcan craft. The sensors soon picked up a small craft, swiftly approaching them.

"Captain, incoming message from the Vulcan courier I-Chaya," said Uhura.

"Put them on screen, Lieutenant," said Kirk. Kirk noticed that Spock forgot himself enough to show some surprise.

A familiar, aged face appeared on the screen.

"Ah...Ambassador. It is a pleasure to see you again," said Jim. He had almost slipped and called the elderly Vulcan by his true name. The Federation and the Vulcan High Council both wished to keep the older Spock's nature a secret. Besides himself, the only other people on the ship who knew the Ambassador was a Spock from another dimension were young Spock, Uhura, Scotty, Keenser and McCoy.

The bridge crew was stunned when the older Vulcan smiled (smiled!) at the captain. It was a small smile, but still, a Vulcan smiling? "It is always agreeable to see the Enterprise, Jim," he said.

"To what do we owe this honor?" asked Jim.

"I am heading to Earth. Admiral Archer requested that I divert my course and pick up his dog. May I surmise that Engineer Scott has corrected his miscalculation?"

"You may, indeed. Do you wish to beam over, or would you prefer that we send a shuttle?"

Again there was that small but definite smile. "I am not the good doctor; the transporter will be acceptable."

"Would you give us ten minutes? I have Doctor McCoy get d'Artagnan's supplies ready."

The older Spock nodded his head. "Ten minutes, then, Jim," and the screen went blank.

Jim ignored the stares of his bridge crew. "Mr. Sulu, you have the conn. Mr. Spock, Ms. Uhura, would you like to accompany me to meet the Ambassador? I just have to make a side trip to Sick Bay to let Bones know..." Jim trailed off. He was not looking forward to the upcoming conversation.

Spock raised an eyebrow at Jim's hesitancy. "Is there something the matter, Captain?" he asked as they entered the lift.

"No, it's just Bones has gotten rather attached to d'Artagnan."

"Ah, this human-canine bonding I've heard about," Spock nodded his understanding.

"Yeah. He knows that going home is what is best for Dart, but I think he's still going to be pretty unhappy,"

"A logical conclusion, Captain," said Spock. Uhura nodded her head in agreement.

-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-

As Jim suspected, McCoy did not take the news well. Oh, there was no grouching or complaining, but Bones was standing there in the transporter room, wearing what Jim called "his doctor about to give bad news" face. D'artagnan stood at the doctor's side, shifting nervously from paw to paw. Jim nodded to Scotty, who activated the transporter. A moment later, the aged Ambassador was there.

"Permission to come aboard," he said.

"Permission granted, sir," smiled Kirk.

The elder Spock stepped down from the transporter pad. "I would like to congratulate you and your crew on the success of the Geshalion mission." He turned to McCoy. "And I am pleased that you have recovered from your injuries, doctor."

"Er, ah, thank you sir," said McCoy. "I hear you came to take Dart home."

"Yes, at Admiral Archer's request."

McCoy handed a bag to Spock. "That has a week's worth of his food, his biscuits, food and water dishes," McCoy explained. He pulled out a data disc from a side pocket, "and this has information on his feeding schedule, replicator formulas for his food, and,"

Elder Spock held up one hand to forestall the flood of instructions. "I promise, Doctor, I will take care of him as if he were my old pet, I'Chaya." Ah, thought Jim, that explained his Spock's surprise at the name of the ship.

"Oh, OK then. And remember to thank Admiral Archer for me. If he hadn't done such a good job training d'Artagnan here, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Older Spock inclined his head. "I will be sure to do so, Doctor."

McCoy dropped to one knee and gave d'Artagnan a hug. "You be a good boy for the Ambassador, you hear? You're getting to go back to Earth, you lucky dog, you." The dog licked the man's face enthusiastically.

Young Spock raised one eyebrow at the emotional display. "The admiral's dog has shown a marked preference for the doctor."

"You should not be surprised. It is the most natural thing in the galaxy," said his older counterpart.

"How so?" asked young Spock.

The elder Spock's face was serene, but Jim could detect a twinkle in his eyes that would rival that of any holovid Santa (and although Jim was amused by the thought of a Vulcan Santa, why was some part of his brain screaming, "Spock in a beard is bad." ?)

"I thought it was widely acknowledged that Terran canines have a great fondness for bones," he said dryly.

McCoy looked up at that. "I have to report to Sick Bay, Jim. I think I'm having a relapse."

"Why?" Jim clenched unconsciously.

"Because I thought I just heard a Vulcan make a joke."

Jim relaxed and grinned. "Not only a joke, but a pun. A truly vile pun."

Elder Spock raised one eyebrow. "It was my understanding that in Terran humor, paradoxically, the worse the pun, the better. Was I misinformed?"

"No, you have it right, sir," said McCoy, still looking a bit stunned.

Before McCoy could continue, the intercom beeped. "I'm sorry, Doctor," came Nurse Chapel's voice. There was an accident in the Chem Lab. Three casualties with chemical burns."

"Son of a," said McCoy. "I'll be right there." He thrust d'Artagnan's leash into the elder Spock's hand. "You see you take good care of him." He turned on his heel and headed toward the door. As it opened, the dog gave a small whine. Jim could see McCoy's shoulders stiffen. And then the doctor was gone.

Jim let out a small puff of air. "Well, that went about as well as could be expected."

D'artagnan let out a howl.

"Ah, it's just like when he came aboard," said Scotty. D'artagnan howled again. "Hope he won't be doing that all the way to Earth, sir. McCoy and Chekov are the only ones who can get him to quiet down."

Elder Spock quirked an eyebrow at Scott. "Is that so?"

He stooped down and ran his hand over the dog's head. "There, there boy," he whispered, in what Jim thought was a pretty fair approximation of Bones' accent. "You settle down."

D'artagnan gave a quizzical half bark. He stared at the tall Vulcan for a long moment, and then sat down next to him, leaning his head against the elder Spock's knee.

"Hey, that's a pretty good imitation of Bones," started Jim, but he didn't get to finish his statement. There was a soft but alarmed, "Spock?" from Uhura. Jim turned, to see his first officer with an expression of absolute amazement on his face. When young Spock realized people were staring at him, he schooled his face to its usual non-expression.

"I apologize, but that couldn't have been?" he started

"Indeed it could," he older self said.

"But how?"

"Let us say that the Fal-tor-pan, while successful, was not 100 percent efficient."

Young Spock looked like controlling his face was taking most of his concentration. "But that would mean that your katra was carried by..." he trailed off, hardly able to follow his train of thought to the logical conclusion.

"Fal-tor-pan? Katra? Would you gentlemen like to share with the rest of the class," asked a puzzled Kirk.

"I would be pleased to explain," said the elder Spock. "I found, through hard experience, that my shipmates and I were ill-served by the Vulcan obsession with privacy. The katra is everything that is not of the body; the soul, in Human parlance. I found myself in a dangerous situation, and made a split-second decision to leave my katra with my McCoy. The fal-tor-pan is the procedure to return the katra to the body."

Younger Spock said, with a slight hint of disbelief in his voice, "With McCoy, of all people?"

"It was, of course, unethical of me. I had never warned my Jim or McCoy of the possibility. As a result, everyone thought McCoy was going insane. My only excuse was that I knew, also through long experience, that there was very little McCoy wouldn't do to help a patient. or a friend."

Younger Spock's eyebrows were threatening to disappear permanently under his bangs. Jim decided to jump in.

"So, did you retain anything besides a way with dogs?" he asked.

Elder Spock was silent for a long moment. "Yes, I believe I did. I did find it easier to deal with Humans and other emotional species after the experience. I even swore, on occasion." Scotty snorted at that.

"And did McCoy, your McCoy, get anything in return?" asked Uhura.

Elder Spock's lips quirked up in an almost-smile. "His chess game improved greatly."

-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-

It was three days after the older Spock took d'Artagnan home that one final issue was resolved.

Chekov sat down in the mess hall and smiled at Sulu, Scotty and Uhura.

"I heard from Nurse Chapel that the doctor yelled at Riley for breaking his ankle in a basketball game. Was major explosion. And it was at 1620." Chekov's grin got larger. He popped his pirozhki into his mouth with a sigh of contentment.

Sulu made a show of double checking his datapad, but he knew the young navigator was correct.

"Hmm, yes, you bet 73 hours, which makes you the closest without going over." Sulu sighed. "Pay up, everyone. And remember, Pavel, Chapel's judging fee comes from your winnings."

"Ees no problem," said Chekov.

"I guess he's back to being his usual self," said Uhura after a few moments. No one had any doubt about whom she was speaking.

"Aye," said Scotty. He ate a few bites of his food and grinned. "Maybe we should get him another wee dog."

Sulu stabbed some salad onto his fork. "No, you heard him. He's convinced space is no place for dogs."

"Hikaru, McCoy thinks space is no place for people," said Uhura.

Chekov stood up and picked up his food tray. "See you on the bridge," he said to Sulu and Uhura. He deposited the tray and left the room. A moment later, the door slid open again. Chekov poked his head into the room.

"How about a cat?"

Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware

Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.

- Rudyard Kipling -

############

Come on, you knew it was coming. The dog had to go home. Truly, a starship is no place for a dog. And I refuse to apologize for my truly vile pun. I started the story with a pun, and, for balance's sake, there had to be one in the last chapter. (see, I was paying attention in chem class way back when - kinda, sorta)

My big writer's block was getting d'Artagnan off the ship. For months, I could not made headway - and then, it was all clear - Spock Prime must be the agent.- i

I'm afraid my spell check is culture-deprived - it kept changing d'Artagnan's name to Patagonian. (Hmmph - no one reads the classics anymore) I think I cleared that up. And it is very culturally myopic - it kept changing M'Benga's name to menage. Let me know if you spot anyother spelling oddnesses.

I do have a half finished story about Spock Prime meeting McCoy 2.0. When I work out the kinks (You! Get your mind out of the gutter! You know who you are.), I'll post it. PS the stories are done - "Echoes of Another Past" and "Reception and Revelations"

Hmmm, I wonder - would Terran house cats find Tribbles yummy?


End file.
